


Dark Carnival

by Tasebi



Category: Mage the Awakening, Vampire the Masquerade - Fandom, werewolf the apocalypse - Fandom, イケメン戦国 時をかける恋 | Ikemen Sengoku: Toki o Kakeru Koi (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Dark Masa is Dark, Dark Setting, Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, i'll add more as they come up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-08-05 22:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16376645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasebi/pseuds/Tasebi
Summary: By choice or by birth they have known about the veil. The secret societies hiding in plain sight. Traditions would have them fighting one another but something more sinister is rearing its ugly head. Will they be able to put aside their differences and work together to overcome the evil in their midst?**since it was debated at one time, I decided to play with the "Kenshin is Female" in this story. You have been warned.**





	1. Origin stories - And so it begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origin stories for all major characters

**If the caged bird doesn't sing**

The temple was stifling. It was boring. Read, practice writing the sutras, pray, walk everywhere. It was so maddening. Nothing fun ever happened at the temple. “Don’t run in the halls.” they’d say. “Keep your voice down.” they’d tell him. Everything was so restrictive. He could never do anything fun.

At night, the little sandy-haired boy would sneak out into the forest and play with his friends. He couldn’t see them, but he heard them. They would laugh and play hide and seek. No matter where he hid, they would find him. He could tell it was them from the giggles and the way they breezed through his hair. They made it all bearable.

The only thing he would get in trouble for was how dirty his clothes were. The monks could never figure it out. He heard them say “Dirt just finds its way to little boys”. He’d smile and go back to his studies.

For years he would sneak out to play with his friends. Until one night he was followed by one of the monks. The monk heard him talking and playing. He saw the little boy walk into the yosei ring, heard the chimes and the laughter. The forest spirits weren’t supposed to be evil, but something about this troubled the monk greatly, so he reported it.

Hideyoshi was barred from leaving the temple grounds. The freedom he had worked so long to earn was taken from him. When he continued to sneak out, the monks threatened to send him away.

The very next night, Hideyoshi escaped into the forest one last time. He wanted to say goodbye to his friends. They had been with him when he had no one else. he could promise to be close by, even if he couldn’t play.

With tears in his eyes, he told them. Stifling sobs, he said goodbye. The brushes of wind and the humming of wings told him they heard him. But tonight was different, he saw them. One of them stepped from behind the tree just inside the ring of mushrooms where they danced.

“Would you like to come back anytime you’d like, young one? Would you like to play with us forever?” His friend's eyes twinkled. Hideyoshi could ask for nothing more. He took the outstretched hand and entered the ring. Tonight as they danced and laughed, the world twisted and warped. Nothing was the same. Everything had a sheen of madness. Hideyoshi never felt the bite at his neck.

\------------------------------------------

The monks found the young boy in the yosei ring in the morning. They mourned the loss of one so young, so promising. The temple buried the boy in the graveyard on the hill, then they burned the ring of mushrooms and attached wards to the tree.

The temple continued to flourish for years; until troublesome children started to disappear. Rumors spread of a monk who would punish children severely for disobeying. It was said the monk was so twisted that in death he found no rest and haunted the halls killing those who would not behave.

The sun was setting and the old monk was walking the hall with a lantern. There were so few left in residence. Children had not been taken in for years. Precious few in these walls lived to adulthood. He turned the corner and stopped short. At the far end of the hall were two pinpricks of red. Slowly they moved closer. He waited, trying to pierce the darkness and determine what he was seeing.

A young man stepped into the pool of light. His clothes were much too small, mismatched, dirty and ragged. But when he smiled, that's when the monk saw the madness in his eyes. The lantern hit the floor with a clatter and the monk ran.

"No running in the halls.” the young man whispered, baring his fangs.

***********************

Hideyoshi had gotten used to prowling this stretch of road. It was a useful shortcut and not far from his friends. The temple long since fell into disrepair when all the monks died. Something told him today would be different. Today would be fun. It had been so long since he’d had any fun.

Hideyoshi looked up at the sound of a horse. A single rider. Some pompous lordling no doubt. He had hoped for so much more…

 

**Controlling probability**

The world was a collection of variables, distributions, and processes. Nothing was random, it just seemed that way if you didn't see the underlying math. If you understood the variables and distributions, you could control the processes. Mitsunari saw the world in all its mathematical glory.

Efficiency was a prayer to the Kami. The direct application of the least amount of force to produce the desired result was a celebration of the divine mathematics that ruled the world. Mitsunari dedicated himself to that celebration the way others dedicated themselves to the sword.

He was in the middle of his studies when he heard someone talking near him.

"I will take this one."

“My lord,” the priest said in hushed tones, “this one is no warrior.”

"If I wanted a warrior, I wouldn't be here. He will join me."

Mitsunari lifted his amethyst eyes from his text to stare into the honey gold ones of the samurai in front of his table. There was something different about the young samurai lord. The numbers twisted and morphed around him. As the lord lifted his papers and read through them, Mitsunari watched the sacred math twist and change. He was entranced.

“Serve me.” The young man commanded. He needed to say nothing more. Mitsunari agreed.

Mitsunari hadn’t realized what that touch of madness was, nor what it meant for all of them, until the siege of Tottori castle. He planned, strategized, and calculated to the day when the Kikkawa should have surrendered. He knew precisely when they would starve to death. When the surrender came, he was the one that advised Hideyoshi just how dire the situation was. He was the one who walked with his lord when the food and supplies were delivered.

No one told people to eat slowly. No one warned them they needed to be careful. So they didn’t, and they weren’t. Hideyoshi walked the halls of the castle as the soldiers gorged themselves, a sedate smile on his face. As Mitsunari walked, he knew. He could tell exactly when, to the hour, they would lose another one. Looking around he knew how many would survive the night. He relayed this information just as he had so many other details.

That night he walked the halls again and he saw what that madness was. He witnessed the gleam and the fangs. The veil was torn from his eyes. He knew his lord for what he was and still, that did not terrify him. Fascinated him, yes. Terrified him, not at all. This was just another variable to control, another probability to factor. Something else to consider when he was planning a strategy to save as many as possible.

“You’re not frightened of me, Ishida?” Hideyoshi smirked as he swiped at the corner of his mouth. “You could be next.”

Mitsunari tilted his head and studied his lord. “I am not, and I will not be. As much as that thought entertains you, I still have value to you, my lord. I can ensure your safety and keep your secret. You knew that or you wouldn’t have shown me this.”

“Perhaps I wanted you to join me?” Hideyoshi countered, but the madness had left his eyes.

“You don’t. I would lose my gift if you did, then I would be no use to you at all.”

Hideyoshi smiled and tilted his head in question. Mitsunari’s answering grin was angelic. He lifted his eyes to the battlements. The numbers danced. With the softest touch, he applied his will. The world around them twisted and warped. Time and space seemed to fold in on themselves before either man blinked, they were on the ramparts.

Hideyoshi laughed.

Mitsunari looked out over the countryside watching the numbers spin in their sacred geometry. His lord won a victory here, but he lost the prayer of efficiency. How many lives could he have saved if he had applied force elsewhere and forced the Kikkawa to surrender?

Mitsunari looked into the courtyard and watched the numbers tick down. He would learn from this. He would create multiple solutions and choose the one that honored the Kami of numbers.

This is what he did, what he was made for. This was just another variable to consider when he was controlling probability.

 

**The Dragon Rises**

"Forget about me! Use your weapons Masamune!" his father called from the camp. 

His men looked at him in question. Their general took a breath and steeled his resolve. "Fire."

The sound of gunfire never echoed so loudly. 

 

*************************

Masamune didn't sleep. Oh, he laid in his futon, but sleep eluded him. He didn't eat. There was no reason to. Even time meant nothing to him. The sun rose, it set, time passed but he was adrift in nothingness.

How long had it been? Was he so pitiful a son that he could not remember how long it had been since he killed his own father? He may not have drawn the blade, but his inability to find a third option cost his clan one of their most beloved leaders.

Mourning should be painful, right? Loss should cause some sensation, shouldn't it? Masamune felt nothing. It wasn't emptiness. It wasn't even blank, that would be a sensation. He felt nothing. He floated, awake, aware but apart.

Figments of conversation occasionally reached him: his mother and her pit of vipers, his cousin and his tales of troublemaking. Kojuro ever faithful Kojuro, one of the few of his father's retainers who didn't take his own life rather choosing to serve him. How long had the man served the clan?

How he wished he could throw off the yolk of leadership. It would be so simple. He only had to drink the tea or eat the food one of the servants in his mother's employ brought him. They wanted the clan so badly. He wanted an end to the emptiness. He wanted his father back.

Masamune fixed his good eye on the ceiling but his focus was beyond. The scene at Abukuma river plays over and over like a movie in his mind. He hears his order, sees his father fall. The movie rewinds and he watches it again. The poison of guilt killing him as surely as anything his relatives could feed him.

Kojuro forced him to eat. The emerald eyes held fire and an understanding. Masa's own weakness forced him to sleep. No matter what he tried, he could not outrun the fear, insecurity, emptiness. He couldn't fill the void. He became reckless in battle. Heedless he plowed through the enemy ranks.

Once, once he felt the bite of the enemy blade. It was glorious. He could feel! He fell from his horse and prayed it would be the end. Masamune watched as the blade came for his head. The ring of steel on steel told him it was blocked.

Masa knew who blocked the blade even as his sight was fading. Kojuro protected and served him as he had his father. If rumors were to be believed, as he had served his grandfather. Masamune tried to call out, tried to beg the man to let him die. It would be Masamune's last order to his retainer, but the strength went out of him.

Two men stood facing each other in a formless white space. Father faced son. Terumune doesn't bother to hide his disappointment.  Masamune took a step forward but his father held up a hand, stopping him.

"I left Oshu in your care. You abandoned her." His father's eyes burned. "You are not welcome here until you remove this stain from our name."  He turned and walked away.

Masa turned and realized he was not alone. A peacock with brilliant green eyes stood before him. "For as long as the Date protect Oshu, so will the Katakura guard the Date."

When he opened his eyes, the battlefield was bright and vivid around him. The Date army was holding ground but the battle was far from decided. His eye blazed. He could see the flow of chi and for the first time in he didn't know how long, Masamune hungered.

He flew into a battle rage and he feasted. The Dragon of Oshu felled every enemy who stood against him. He taunted and goaded them until they fell back in fear and ran. He pursued and cut them down gorging himself in the process. When no enemy stood against his blade, he sought the nearest man.

Blade against blade rang out. Power and prowess matched. One was cool and controlled. The other was in the middle of battle lust. Cool green eyes met cerulean blue and knew a kindred when he saw one.

The battle between lord and retainer was epic. For all their sparring never had the two gone all out as they were now. They traded blows. The lord seeking to bathe in blood. The retainer biding time to subdue.

When Masamune finally collapsed, it was Kojuro who tended to him. Kojuro taught him how the One-eyed dragon might fly again. It was the chief retainer who taught him what it meant to live as he was.

When the dragon landed beside the devil king, he was in control of himself, and his hunger.

 

**Blooming in the Darkness**

Life at Sumpu could be worse. It was better than the temple. Here he could walk the gardens freely. Sure, he was accompanied by a retainer, but Kaito was one of the patient ones that didn't resent him being here.

Today, chafing under the constant supervision, Ieyasu managed to sneak away from his guardian and wander the edge of the gardens by himself. The splotch of brown among the well-manicured greenery drew his attention. Slowly and with care, he approached the area. Drawing back the branches, he found the fawn with a badly injured back leg.

Ieyasu touched the creature and sensed its pain. So much pain for such a little body - both boy and fawn. Tenderly he reached out and stroked the injury. He mumbled to the creature, promising the hurt would be gone soon. As he crooned, the injury knit and heal. The pain eased.

A larger, warm hand enveloped his. Ieyasu's emerald eyes met Kaito's gentle brown ones. The retainer held a finger to his lips. The old retainer held his hand above the fawn's injury and Ieyasu watched it heal before his very eyes. Together the two watched as the fawn stood on steady legs and bounded away.

"It looks like we have new lessons, young master," Kaito said with a gentle smile.

In the years that passed, Ieyasu applied himself to healing and medicine to hide his gifts. The old mentor insisted two lessons were the foundation of all others.

"Young Master, there are those who will seek to exploit your gifts or kill you for them. Hide them well. Infuse your poultices and tinctures. Let your gift be seen as an extension of nature rather than apart from it. If you forget all else, remember life has a reckoning, a balance. There is a price to be paid for our gift. Pray, do not give so much of yourself that the price is too high."

Kaito died before Ieyasu left for the Oda, but not before passing on his most prized possession; a book that had been handed down for generations.

"I've none of my own to carry on the tradition. It is yours now." were Kaito's only words explaining the gift.

When he allied with Nobunaga, he was surprised the man was surrounded by death. How could Nobunaga not see what was so obvious to him? How could he stand the stink of the grave?

If he could have done something about the abominations in his midst, he would have. But they were retainers or warlords who swore to stand with the devil king. They were valuable and despite their nature, they were dedicated to the Oda. So he held his tongue.

And then there was Mitsunari. By all that was living and sacred, that man was frustrating as hell. How could one be so brilliant, so talented, so blessedly gifted in the arts, and not practice in tradition?

He found himself wondering if this is what the old mentor meant when he said there was a balance. Was a life mage doomed to be surrounded by death? Was one trained in the arts and following a discipline doomed to draw those who fumbled in the dark?

During one of his customary walks of the gardens - something he still did to calm his mind when he was overwhelmed - a splotch of brown among the green drew his eye. He felt nine years old again. Pulling back the greenery he found a fawn, back leg badly injured.

As he held his hand above the injury and watched it heal, his old mentor's words echoed in his mind.

"Life, young master, is a gift that should not be squandered. Cherish the gift you have been given and you will be blessed in return." 

 

**Weird Science**

Sasuke pulled on his lab coat and left his room. Days like today he waxed nostalgic. It felt like he was living in a dream since he found a copy of "Vivlío Aithéra" mixed in with his other texts.

The text challenged so many theories of the universe. Reading it felt like new pathways in his mind opened. New possibilities both a part of science and somehow beyond it. Every day was an adventure. He lived to test what was possible and push boundaries. Everything he read, everything he learned encouraged him, invited him to ask the question "What if?" and more importantly "Why?" His insatiable curiosity would have gotten him in trouble quite a few times were it not for his preternatural ability to dream up solutions.

He turned a corner down an infrequently used corridor. These hallways were just a bit darker and not as antiseptic as the main halls. Traveling these halls was an honor one earned. He never forgot that privilege.

Many of his contemporaries saw him as something of a prodigy. He came into the order later than many of the others. During his first years, his late start was a source of mockery, or it would have been, if he’d bothered to pay attention. He didn't have time for such nonsense. He was too involved in learning anything his mentor would teach him.

Juxtapositional firmament and Aether Causality were two of his favorite subjects. He mastered understanding and locating where things were both in time and space by his second year. By his third year, Sasuke was a sought-after teacher's assistant. His explanations of the space-time continuum were lauded as eloquent, elegant and accessible. Even struggling students could understand his explanations.

Sasuke stopped in front of a closet door and smiled. No one else would notice the slight lift of the left side of his mouth as a smile, but that's what it was. His mentor gifted him this when he presented his findings on astrophysics during his fourth year. Being accepted as a post-doctorate scholar was amazing enough, but this? He opened the door to a laboratory. This was his pride and joy.

The whole thing looked like an old Victorian laboratory. A table with all sorts of bottles and vials sat atop a Persian rug which covered the hardwood floors. Two walls were lined with cabinets of books and bottles. His desk lined another. The last is covered with random diagrams and pictures.

Sasuke drags his fingers across the wall and the pictures disappear displaying a giant blackboard.

Efficacy and Dissection of applied astrophysics: Colluding in Dualistic Historical Multiverse was written across the top. The rest of the board was a random jumble of equations and formulas. He studied the board for some time before adding a few lines to the final equation.

This was it. If this worked, he had his postdoctoral thesis complete. When he came back, he would present his findings. He'd be published this time for sure. He would finally be a serious contender for chair.

Sasuke pulled his pen from his lab coat and started reciting the equation out loud. His pen traced the calculations as he spoke them. Energy rose around him and the air started to hum with it. As he finished, a shiver ran across his skin and a rift opened.

This was it! This was proof his thesis was accurate! All he had to do was go there and get back. This was so simple a first year could do it!

Next stop, the Sengoku era! Maybe he could get Tokugawa's autograph while he was there.

 

**The Tiger of Kai**

Pain rolled through his body as he separated himself from the woman in his bed. Her silky skin inviting him to lose himself again. He almost gave in and buried his face into her neck when another shudder coursed through his veins. The blasted curse. On stumbling feet, he pushed himself out of the room and into the moonlight.

A blessing they said. All his life they told him this was a blessing. What kind of blessing was it when you lost control? What kind of blessing was it when you were not yourself but a beast. No, this could never be a blessing. It was a curse.

Shingen looked at the sky as another shudder wracked his body. After all this time he's never gotten used to the pain. He doubted he ever would. The waves of pain only proved the medicine didn't work. He stumbled to his feet.

Precious few knew of his illness. A handful of loyal retainers knew of his "trouble breathing". His self-mocking laugh came out as a wheeze. If it were only trouble breathing. He would offer his fortunes for something so trivial. Of the retainers who knew he was sick, only one knew the truth. Only one could be trusted with his darkest secret.

He had to go. He couldn't stay here. He was too close; too close to people, too close to losing control, the smells were too much.

The light of the moon sliced like a blade through the clouds lighting his way. On silent feet, Shingen made his way through Kasugayama. He knew the path by memory. It was a good thing because his vision was dimming. Sweat beaded on his head and ran down his back. His breath came in shallow gasps. As he reached the back wall he collapsed against it. He grit his teeth against the wave of pain. The waves of pain were getting closer. He had to keep moving.

The forest. He needed to get to the forest. The call of it was in his veins, in every beat of his heart. the clouds parted and the full moon bathed the fields outside the castle in a silver glow.

He left it too late. He knew he was pushing his luck, putting too much stock in the new medicine. It was another failure. Well, it wasn't a total failure. It did block the symptoms until tonight until he almost lost it in the castle.

Shingen stumbled as another wave of pain rolled through him. The forest was so close. He could see the treeline, but not into it. His vision was fading.

_ Please be there. Please wait for me. _

He forced himself to his feet. He could do this. It hadn't beaten him yet. He wouldn't let it beat him now. As he reached the treeline a feral growl came from his left. He turned to face it and smiled.

"Good to see you too. You know how I am if there are sweets and a ..." He never finished the sentence.

His body warps and changes. Fingers curl and claws grow. Thick, wiry, black fur covers his body. The white V on his chest his only distinctive marking. His face morphs and stretches. He has always been a big man. It would make sense he would be larger than normal in this form too.

Anyone who walked by the forest on the night of the full moon would tell you it is haunted. The ghosts of the dead snap twigs and branches. Hunters will tell you Onikuma walk the forest around Kasugayama. On nights of the full moon, they come down and hunt for horses. Only two knew the truth.

Tiger of Kai, they called him. If they only knew. The bear turned from the castle to seek the solitude and safety of the deep wood.

 

**The God of War**

A figure, dressed in blue and white, walked the ramparts of Nanao castle. The full moon bathed everything in its light and graced the apparition with an eerie glow. Soldiers who saw it swore the castle was haunted. It stood, unmoving staring in the direction of the Oda forces

The enemy was retreating. That is what was important. The Oda underestimated the Uesugi. Underestimated their strategy. The Tedori river was their secret weapon, one the Oda would not test a second time. The castle was secure. It was time for the army to return home.

"Another victory in your name, my love." the figure whispered.

Kenshin sent the main contingent of the army ahead. Traveling with a small retinue of guards was enough. The roads were clear according to the last reports, and the banditry in this area was nothing to be afraid of.

The next move needed to be considered. Do the Uesugi push into Kyoto, or face the Hojo? These were considerations for the return trip to Echigo. The Oda were not a threat for now. That was enough.

The retinue moved out shortly after breakfast. There was no time to stop by the shrine and offer prayers, Kenshin was needed back home. They weren't walking into another battle so there was no need to ask for blessings.

The roads should have been clear. The bandits should have been nothing for the group of soldiers and the general, but no one heard the attack. No one saw the danger until the dagger slipped under armor and Kenshin toppled from the horse.

\--------------------------------------------

Kenshin and Isehime moved toward one another. He held his hands out to her but his expression was pained.

“I’ve been waiting for you. You know there is nothing more I want than to have you here with me. You have done so well, carried so many burdens, and all in my name. But you are not done yet, my love. There is still more to ask of you. I am sorry. I will wait for you.”

Kenshin turned and walked away leaving Isehime behind.

\-------------------------------------------

The entire guard unit lay dead or dying when the rift opened. A man in a white haori and spectacles stepped out. Sasuke looked around. He knew precisely when he was. Now could he figure out where? As he scanned the field he saw the dying men and the general with the blue and white, fur-lined armor. Eyes wide he ran toward the downed leader. Could it be? Was this right?

Sasuke took the wakizashi and cut the armor from Kenshin. There could still be a chance. He could save one of the most famous generals of the era. Ripping the armor and kimono aside so he could start CPR, Sasuke stared then looked into the face of the general. Kenshin was a woman. Shaking his head he refocused. He could worry about that if she lived.

\--------------------------------------------

Breath returned to her lungs, the sun burned her eyes, and a winter chill washed over the field as the general known as Kenshin rose.

There. A man. He must be the reason she couldn’t rest. He was the reason she could not be with her love. He would pay.

\---------------------------------

Sasuke watched in awe as the woman rose beneath his hands. He was familiar with the concept of the undead, but all the teachings said they had to be embraced. There was no indication this one had been.

Her eyes turned to him, one ice blue, one light green, and in their depths, he saw rage. A roar from the treeline drew his attention. Sasuke didn’t know who to be more afraid of at the moment, the undead creature in front of him, or the twelve-foot tall bear running toward them. He sat, frozen.

The bear tackled the vampire. It was a vampire, wasn’t it? Things could be different in this time. A tug at his arm had him looking back at a young man.

“Let's go! She’ll kill us if she gets away from him.”

So they ran.

**His Brother’s Keeper**

Yukimura donned the ceremonial robes. Many of his clansmen considered this a needless ritual but he kept to the old traditions. When you were the second son of the clan leader, you never forgot your place. Ceremony reminded you of your station, your duty.

His fingers ghosted over the six golden coins of the Sanada crest seeking the other pattern; the one expertly weaved into the stitching of the clan crest, the one you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it. This is how the clan lived, in plain sight yet hidden.

He stared out the window towards the setting sun. It wouldn’t be long now. With deliberate actions, he took up his chopsticks, began to eat, and reminisce. The castle was a never-ending source of rumors when it came to his habits on days like today. Some said it was a religious observance, others insisted it was to honor ancestors. Both were right. Both were wrong.

There was a reason he earned the title “The Crimson Demon of War” and was the most feared of the Takeda cavalry. Tradition and honor had a good part to play in it. So he would continue to don these robes, he would continue to perform this rite, and in the end, he would bring honor to the Sanada through his glorious achievements and death in righteous combat.

He heard his lord’s raucous laughter through the walls and knew that Shingen was pushing his luck. He always did this. He fought against who he was, denied his gift, lying about illness and refusing to take the necessary precautions. Now a few choice retainers believed their lord to be dying. He knew the truth and would always be there to support his lord in any way he needed; in the hope that one day, the man would embrace the change and control the power rather than be controlled by it.

As tradition dictated, he stood, bowed with great solemnity and left the room. The dying sun paints the sky in blazing reds and oranges warning it would be full dark soon. This was not the time to leave things to chance. He walked past the adjoining room. Shingen was still with some woman and shook his head. His Lord was putting this off too late. He should have felt the change coming by now. Perhaps the new medicine would grant him the peace he so desperately sought. Yukimura doubted it.

He slipped out the back gate and through the fields. The world was coming into sharper focus. Smells were stronger. The edge of the forest called to him. He slid past the treeline and into the deeper shadows. He would wait. Full dark was only a few hours away. The song in his veins told him Shingen would be along.

The change is a wonderful thing when you don’t fight it. When you revel in the new senses and sensations it brings. Yukimura welcomed the change, as he did every time. He was a Sanada the fist of the clan, fearsome warrior, unrivaled fighter and this is the wellspring of his strength.

As the clouds slipped over the moon, his eyes caught movement at the back gate. Right on time. The wolf watched as his lord stumbled in the field but it didn’t leave the safety of the forest.

As Shingen passed the trees edge, Yukimura growled whether, in admonishment or greeting, only another wolf could tell. When his lord’s transformation was complete, wolf and bear moved deeper into the forest they would call home for the next three days.

 

**Balancing the Dragon, the Phoenix, and the Tiger**

"Abbot, Neither the Uesugi nor Takeda have answered the call. The supply lines have been cut."

"Spread the word. Abandon the temple." His words were flat, emotionless

"Abbot?"

Black eyes looked up from the parchment. "You said yourself we have no allies. The Mori have fallen. Our supply lines are crushed. I'll not have the brethren dying of starvation out of some misplaced pride. Abandon the temple."

The words, delivered with finality and purpose, were unquestionable. The monk bowed deep, head pressed against the floor. "As you command Abbot. I will relay your orders."

Kennyo grabbed his prayer staff and stood. He knew how long he had until the invaders would reach Hongan-ji. His job had not changed, it was as it always had been, he was called to protect. Whether protecting the farmers and peasants, or his fellow monks, it mattered not. All that mattered is he protected.

As the monks and residents of the temple were following orders to gather what they could carry and be off, the Abbot walked to the main floor and front entrance. Each step was accompanied by the chiming of the prayer rings on his staff. A low chant fell from his lips and light trailed behind him in a pattern as old as time itself. When he reached the entrance hall, he changed direction, altering the pattern. Two concentric circles pulsed with light, like a heartbeat. Kennyo took his place in the center and brought his prayer staff down with such force the rings echoed a chord. From beneath his feet, four lines extended, one in each of the cardinal directions.

"See my brethren safe."

The room seemed enveloped in blue light. Kennyo sat in the center of the room, legs crossed, eyes closed, breath measured.

When the first wave of attackers ran for the entrance, they slammed against the barrier. The second wave crashed against the first, crushing some of their own in the onslaught. Kennyo didn't move. When the enemy regrouped and tried again, the whole temple shook. Just a bit longer. He only needed it to hold for a little while longer.

"Abbot! Leave the temple and Osaka and we will leave the Ikko-Ikki and all under their protection unharmed."

Kennyo smiled. This was not the first time he had heard promises from the Devil King's lackeys. They all rang hollow. When he opened his eyes they blazed with holy light. The barrier fell and the army swarmed in. Confused, the warriors looked around but none touched the monk still sitting in the middle of the floor with his prayer staff beside him. All but the closest missed the last words the monk spoke.

"My brethren are safe because Amida Buddha has protected them." A blast of heat rolled out from the seated monk a moment before the temple burst into flames.

*******************************************************

A monk walked the road near an outlying village and a small child tugged at his robes.

"Abbot, will you come and protect us? There are dark creatures that attack in the night and take our kinsmen."

The monk kneeled down so he was at the child's level. "Tell me what you've seen, little one."

"Oni, Abbot."

Kennyo looked at the small farm village and nodded. As he stood he held his hand out to the child.

“Show me.” He would protect his people, it was his calling and his duty. 

 

**Truth is eternal**

A thin, graceful hand reached into linen robes and pulled out a single, golden ostrich feather. The creature standing bound in front of the priestess flinched as she placed the feather at heart level and let it float, suspended between the two of them.

"You will repeat after me. If you complete the litney I will release you."

He lunged towards her crimson eyes burning with hatred. Fangs scraped skin before he was pulled back. "Free me and you will be the first to die!"

"If you believe that, you'll never make it through the litney. Now," her tone took an undercurrent of command, "Repeat after me: I have not committed a sin."

"I have not committed a sin." Both watched as the feather rose.

"I have not committed a robbery with violence."

"I... I have not committed a robbery with violence." Again the feather rose. He tensed but didn't move.

"I have not stolen."

"I have not stolen." He repeated. The feather didn't move. She saw him smile. Brown eyes met crimson ones and she saw triumph flicker in his eyes.

Holding his gaze, she stated the next line with authority. "I have slain neither man nor woman."

He froze and stared at her before struggling against his bindings.

"Say it." she demanded. "I have slain neither man nor woman."

"I.." He paused and liked his lips. "I have, I have slain... neither man nor woman." The last words came out in a rush as if speed alone could keep the feather from rising.

She watched as silver fire in the shape of a crocodile's maw consumed the creature. When the fire disappeared, not even ash remained.

"You have been judged." she intoned. Her thin, graceful hand reached forward and took the feather from where it settled and placed it back into her robes, heedless of the blood on her collar.

********************************************************

Chianna packed the trunk with her herbs and tinctures. They would serve her well in bartering in her new home. She looked back at the growing port town. The lands had changed in her time. Empires have come and gone, but the servants of Apep were no longer a threat, not the way they had been.

She felt a calling to travel with the merchants across the sea. If this is where her goddess needed her, she would heed the call. Wars were breeding grounds for creatures of chaos and corruption. If they were gaining foothold, it was her duty to find them and uproot them. It was her task as a hunter.

 

**Birth of the Devil King**

The temple was in flames. Shoji doors and walls were little more than skeletons now the rice paper had burned away. The heat pressed in from all sides. A part of him was amused and his mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. Everything had gone exactly as he'd planned.

"Make your decision quickly. We haven't got all night. Either you are willing to start at the bottom again, or you die here." The deep voice ghosted over his ear.

Except, that he hadn't planned on another soul being alive in the temple, certainly not one offering a bargain. Nobunaga sensed the disquiet and agitation at the flames encroaching on the both of them. It gave him a perverse sense of pleasure knowing the other creature had not expected that.

Nobunaga's mind replayed the events of just a few weeks ago, sitting in his tenchu having tea with Mitsuhide.

"You're serious about this." For once the voice matched the expression as Mitsuhide stared at his lord. Shock, dismay, pain, it was all there.

"There is no one else I can ask to do this. I believe what I am doing is best for the country. We cannot move forward under the shackles of religion." Nobunaga looked at the maps on the table between them. "But what I am going to do will incite revolt. I cannot unify the country if the people are revolting. You are the only one I can trust with this."

Mitsuhide studied his lord. The request was a painful one. No matter what others thought of him, everything he did, every shred of information gathered, was for the benefit of his lord. And now he was asked to be his betrayer. The tea was bitter. How ironic he should get a sense of taste at a time like this. He set the teacup down and nodded.

"I've served you faithfully, and I shall do so until your death. You may count on me." Mitsuhide bowed. It was one of the few times the man was completely honest. Nobunaga could not have asked for a better vassal.

The shaking of the building as a support beam snapped brought him back to the present. Nobunaga hadn't bothered to look around. He knew his aids were dead. This is where he planned to die too. It was right. This was the right step for the country he loved. He asked the one man he could trust to do this for him. Mitsuhide agreed. Now he couldn't finish the deed. He wasn't ready to die.

Nobunaga nodded. He didn’t see the feral grin that revealed sharp canines.

"Excellent. This won't hurt much." The voice was rich and deep. Noble. Nobunaga offered a prayer to whoever was listening, not for his sake, he wasn't a religious man. He prayed for Mitsuhide. May history remember him favorably. By the powers Mitsuhide believed in so fiercely, Nobunaga hoped his faithful retainer would never learn of his cowardice.

The pain at his neck was two white-hot daggers. He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth vowing he would not further dishonor himself by screaming. Every inch of his body was on fire. His bones felt like they were snapping. It was almost too much to bear. Just before he lost the fight against the pain and cried out, sweet oblivion swallowed him whole.

"This one was worth waiting for. He will be a worthy addition to the ranks." The man said, lifting the limp body of the samurai and carrying him from the burning temple.

 

**Embrace the Shadows**

Mitsuhide rode through the bamboo groves. The same mastermind was behind this. It had their hallmark.

Hideyoshi and Ieyasu should not have been here this fast. They should not have gotten word for another week. It had only been thirteen days. His plans were exact. The collapse of the information network was a devastating blow.

The pain at watching the burning temple flowed through him once again. Mitsuhide saw the same hallmarks there that he saw in his mother's death. Everyone tried to pin his mother’s death on Nobunaga, but he looked past the information he was being fed, what they wanted him to see, and dug deeper to find the truth.

When Nobunaga made his request, Mitsuhide hadn’t recognized the signs. He was too stricken with grief, with shock. But when he started setting his plan in motion to make his lord’s request a reality, then he saw the subtle manipulations.

The mastermind was becoming arrogant, finding power in his anonymity. Mitsuhide was content to feed that arrogance, or he had been. Until his lord's death, he had been more than willing to feed the pompous ass' ego.

In the days leading up to Honno-Ji, he saw the glassy-eyed retainers. They always started showing up when something big was about to happen. That something always meant catastrophe for him. But this time he built himself a network, a spiderweb he could use to recover from the worst of it. His opponent dismantled that as well.

All his allies, every one of the backroom deals he made lay worthless. The spineless dogs from the emperor to his own godforsaken son-in-law betrayed him. That was the bastard’s calling card. Every time something happened, it was done to destroy Mitsuhide's world, to bring him low. Each time, Mitsuhide came back stronger, more determined to find the one responsible and make him pay.

Mitsuhide's mistake, the only one he would admit to, was missing the clues that this time was different. Something happened after Honno-ji. Whoever was torturing him changed his timetable. This time he didn't want Mitsuhide to suffer, he wanted him dead.

That's why Mitsuhide was on horseback in a cursed bamboo grove, fleeing through Ogurusu. His horse reared throwing Mitsuhide from its back and bolting in a blind panic.

"Akechi Mitsuhide. Ever the resourceful one." Mitsuhide peered into the gloom, pulling his sword silently from its sheath.

"Come, come now. You don't actually think you can kill me do you?" A man, quite a handsome man if Mitsuhide had to admit it, dressed in the garb of a common bandit, but who moved with a lithe grace, stepped into his path. His voice was smooth, sonorous.

"I've spent all this time grooming you." The man chastised, "It would be a shame to lose you after investing so much. Surely, I have the right to expect some sort of return on my investment."

So this was the face of his shadow. The man responsible for his mother's death, his lord's death, and who orchestrated his downfall to Toyotomi and Tokugawa.

"What's in this for you? I have nothing now."

The man grinned. His eyes were pinpricks of red in the night, his teeth lengthened into something wrong, feral. For the first time in his life, Mitsuhide knew true terror.

"See that's where you're wrong. You have everything I want. No matter how tightly I pulled the net, no matter how devastating I made the blow, you always recovered. You have everything I want Akechi Mitsuhide. I want you."

Mitsuhide never saw the man move. He only felt the sharp burning pain at his neck, the searing pain as every nerve in his body screamed in protest. As the darkness swallowed him he held on to one thought, he would spend eternity making this bastard pay.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He had forgotten how long he guarded, how many villages he protected. Kennyo had also stopped wondering how they found him. He just knew they always did. He stared across the valley to the farm town below. They sought him out because their daimyo was a demon. 

The monk sighed as he made his way down the game trail. He wasn't one to hunt down the evil in its lair. He wasn't that kind of hunter. In his time he's never met one of those hunters. He wondered if any lived.

Kennyo entered the village just as the sun reached its zenith. He was called to the elder's house immediately.

“What do you know of the demon?” Kennyo's deep voice echoed through the small house.

“He is powerful.” The elder's hand trembled. “He is not the only one in the area. He has servants.”

“They all do.”

“Will you go after him this evening?”

Kennyo studied the elder. “You hired me to protect the village, not slaughter a demon. Protection is what you shall have.” The rings on the prayer staff chimed as he stood. The elder flinched. 

“I will place the wards, ” he said as he walked out. 

The village was not overly large. Fear and apprehension were etched on the face of everyone he met. The people were kind enough but scared. He walked the outskirts of town keeping the sun’s direction in mind. As he followed his circuit, the prayer rings gentle chimed. At regular intervals, you could see where the staff dragged on the ground.

As sunset approached, all villagers locked themselves indoors. Kennyo sat in the center of the marketplace, in the center of town and started to recite the suttas. As the first rays of moonlight hit the top of the prayer staff, lines and symbols glowed along the ground. A square, surrounded by a circle, surrounded by text so old no one read it anymore. Finally, the circle outside the village lit and the ward was complete.

Quiet settled over the village and he waited. It shouldn't be long. A flash of blue exploded out along the barrier from the east and then silence. If the demon was as powerful as they said, why weren't more thralls coming? Well, it was only the first night. He was a patient man.

The morning of the fifth day a woman entered the town. Her long black hair was pulled back in dozens of small braids. She was a slight creature in Kennyo's opinion, even smaller than most. She wore a simple kimono and a generous smile. 

“The villagers tell me I should not go out at night. The hills are haunted by demons.” She spoke softly but without judgment.

“They seek only your safety. It is not safe for you after dark, whether the danger is mortal or demon.”

She smiled gently. “I will have to thank you for your warning. But if its a demon in the hills, why not slay it?”

“I protect. That is my calling.”

She nodded and silence fell between them as she thought. When she spoke up again she asked, “Isn't the best way to protect, to eliminate the threat at its source.”

For the first time in he couldn't remember how long, Kennyo was agitated. “I am not that kind of hunter.” He said simply.

“Isn't it nice that I am?”

He gawked at her as she walked away.

***************************

That night the woman joined them for dinner. She was quiet but her eyes watched the elder. When she looked at Kennyo, he nodded. He noticed the thrall from the beginning but the man hadn't actively hurt any villagers so he lived. She sipped her tea.

“Will you go after him this evening?” The elder asked.

“No. Yes.” They spoke at the same time.

“Who are you?” Kennyo asked.

“I am a simple traveler, venerable monk.” Her smile baited him.

“I will have your name, hunter.”

“Chianna.”

“I like to know who I'll be burying in the morning.” he left the house.

That Kennyo watched Chianna leave the village before the ward went up. When she didn’t return by morning, he went looking for her body.

************************

Chianna moved through the woods that separated the town and the castle. She picked her steps carefully. There was no sense in needlessly fighting every thrall and ghoul in the army. Save your strength and strike strategically, it’s what got her this far. 

She looked up at the castle from the forest edge. There was a moat surrounding the stone foundation. The backside of the castle had the approach. The terraced roof offered multiple openings, but Chianna still had to get up there. 

On silent feet, she worked her way around the castle. If she were lucky and the vampire arrogant, she could waltz right in. That’s worked more times than it should have. This one wasn’t. An army marched away from the inner courtyard. Rank upon rank of soldiers moved down the road. At the head of the cavalry, a man in armor shouted an order. He stepped off to the side and let the rest of the line move ahead. Just before he followed, the riders crimson eyes met hers, and he smiled. 

Chianna watched the rider move away. Looking back at the castle she wondered if she should take the gift that was given or bide her time. Nothing good ever came of haste. Making her way into a tree, she settled down to wait. 

*****************************************************

Five days Kennyo searched. Each day he returned to town empty-handed. There was no body, no scrap of clothing, nothing. He ran his fingers over the strange symbol he found in his sleeve the morning after she left; a funny looking cross with a loop in the top. When did she find the time to leave that? How did she do it without him noticing? 

“Her loss is a shame.” The elder said with no sorrow in his voice. 

“You seem certain she’s gone,” Kennyo replied nonchalantly. 

“You’ve found nothing, she has not returned. There is no doubt she is lost to us.” 

Kennyo touched the end of his staff to the other man’s chin and the elder winced in pain. “I have let you live because you’ve not cost the villagers their lives. I know what you are. If I find out you have harmed someone under my protection, you’ll wish I was a different type of hunter.”

******************************************************

The army hadn’t returned. The groups sent to harass the town had dwindled as well. Chianna had to move fast or risk getting caught between an elder vampire and a returning army. She looked at the light in the highest tower. She hoped she didn’t have to fight her way all the way up. 

She stayed to the shadows, creeping through the courtyard and up to the castle. The reinforcements were greatly depleted. Chianna may not have thought much of his methods, but the monk was making a serious dent by just setting up a ward and powering it. She still thought he was foolish for powering it for a whole month, but he would likely say the same about her frontal assault on a vampire’s castle. 

Her quarry was in the center garden when she found him. Five feather-shaped daggers struck home, rendering the beast immobile. Chianna pulled the feather from her circlet and let it float between the two of them at heart level. 

“You will repeat after me…” 

***********************************************************

Seven days after she left, Chianna walked back into town, clothes dirty, hair mussed, but alive. 

Kennyo strode over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Where have you been?” 

She blinked at him but didn’t answer. 

He turned her and lowered her collar checking her neck. It wasn’t until he turned her around again and saw her blush that he realized what he had done. Kennyo dropped his hands and stepped back. 

“Did you,” he coughed, “were you able to finish the task.” 

“I did.” 

“The area is safe then?” 

“Another day or two and it should be.” Chianna looked around. “I need a place to pray and purify. Is there anyplace I can use?” 

He led her to the elder’s house. 

************************************************************

Nobunaga was on the road with the army when he felt the bond snap. He smiled. He knew letting that hunter live was a good idea. Now he just had to move his pawns into place. If his intelligence was accurate, getting to Ieyasu would be easier than he had first thought.


End file.
